Righting All Wrongs
by coffeevixen84
Summary: Set a year or so after the finale, the gang is reunited when Laurie Forman has a tragic accident. Dealing with reality seems inevitable in the small confines of the Point Place hospital...please R
1. Chapter 1

Righting All Wrongs

Prologue: "...Only Changed"

Author's Note: This is a test, if no one reads or if no one likes, this story will die and fade away. But if you like it, or think you might not hate it passionately, let me know and I'll keep going. And if you read my other stories, Melting, For the Sake of the Innocent, and Encounter will all be updated this weekend. Let me know what you think, I beg of you.

Disclaimer: The characters and context of That 70's Show obviously do not belong to me. I'd be much less bitter all the time if they did.

Matter cannot be created, nor destroyed...only changed. But in taking a good long look around the waiting room of Point Place's Hospital and one might find that "destroyed" seemed exactly what described it. Six people not yet grown, but far passed young, looked beaten and worn --crumpled bodies slouched silently in uncomfortable chairs.

Eric Forman sat in the middle. His eyes framed by the dark blue bags of exhaustion, his lips dry and cracked. His thin, pale fingers were wound up in the hands of Donna Pinciotti to his left. She held on with all the strength she could muster, an attempt to comfort since her own grief prevented her from speaking. To her left, Jackie Burkhardt sat, head resting on Donna's shoulder, arm wrapped desperately around her friend, the tracks of her tears still shining on her cheeks.

On Eric's right sat Steven Hyde, face set stern and tight, noticably holding in sobs, shoulders shaking from the tension, shades in place to veil the watery eyes. Beside him, Michael Kelso, biting down on his lip, eyes welling up full, arms folded stiffly, held to his chest.

And Fez was inconsolable.

Laurie Forman had been, at her worst, the butt of their jokes and the sluttly wick for their hottest burns; but at her best, well, she'd _almost_ been one of them. And after a year where they had all been slipping farther and farther away from each other, they now sat packed close together, shoulder to shoulder, clinging with all their might, all because she was lying in a hospital bed, weakening with each breath, and had said outloud what they'd all forgotten:

"I might have been the "favorite", little brother, but your family was twice as big as mine. You're lucky, Eric. You're _all_ lucky."


	2. We Didn't Start The Fire

Righting All Wrongs

Chapter 1: We Didn't Start the Fire…

* * *

They had all arrived in a blur, been ushered to Laurie's bedside in haste, and fallen into tears (except, of course, the solid and impenetrable Steven Hyde) almost instantly. 

But then, just as suddenly, the world slowed back down. They'd been exiled from the cramped and depressing hospital room, and had been left in the lobby, hoping for answers, as time crawled by.

Hour One was spent in shock. Hour Two was full of saddened disbelief. Silent seconds passed into long, eerily quiet minutes, as they sat, huddled and heavy, waiting for news.

But by Hour Three, the awkwardness had settled in. People realized whose hand they were holding, whose shoulder they were scrunched up against, and slowly the group disentangled themselves until they were spread out over the several rows of too-narrow, too-itchy, too-close-together chairs.

Apparently, not even grief and surprise could build the necessary bridges.

* * *

Eric Forman felt guilty. His sister was in a hospital bed, serious injuries they weren't even entirely sure how she'd gotten were making it difficult for her lungs to breathe and her heart to beat. Yet, here he was, with his mind fixating on the drama and tension created by his six arguably "best" friends being all thrust together in the same confined space. 

But to be honest, he didn't want to be thinking about how his sister might be dying, and thought maybe a little high school-like angst was just the selfish distraction he needed.

New Year's Eve had been fun, or at least interesting, with his surprise return and the excitement the start of 1980 suggested. In the haze of hope and cocktails, everything had _**almost **_felt right.

But then they all woke up, and concepts like 'growing up' and 'growing apart' were all too soon very apparent. And the effects had been quite odd, really. Everyone still came to the basement, but only as if to fulfill some minimum time requirement, as if it were an obligation to see eachother.

And certain people were, **_conveniently_**, never down there at the same time.

The days of hours spent with all six of them just killing time were long gone.

And the strain that was in the air now was almost tangible as a result.

And Eric Forman felt guilty; as if, somehow, that strain was his fault.

* * *

Donna Pinciotti felt lost. She sat alone in a corner. _**Un**_willing to make eye contact with her companions; _**un**_able, perhaps for the first time in a long time, to decipher what to do; and well, she was just plain _**un**_comfortable, too. 

She wasn't sure how she had gotten to this point, and she meant that on multiple levels.

How had Laurie ended up in a hospital bed, with tubes and monitors and doubt standing between the weak, nearly motionless body that was down the hall right now, and the mischievous flirt that she'd seen prance out of the Forman kitchen the afternoon before?

How had she herself even gotten here? Like physically here. She didn't really remember when or how she was told to get to the hospital, or even who or what she rode with or in. Everything had been swallowed into a fog in the moment her eyes took in Red Forman crying, albeit discreetly, at his daughter's bedside, and nothing else made any sense.

And really, what disoriented her most: how did the people she would have rattled off as those she trusted most in the world, as the people she loved most, and knew loved her most in return, all grown so incapable of consoling each other?

And Donna Pinciotti felt desperately lost; not only because she had no clue how she got to this point, but more importantly because she had no clue how to get back.

* * *

Jackie Burkhart felt tired. Physically, Mentally, Spiritually, Emotionally…she was exhausted inside and out. And though she wouldn't sleep, couldn't sleep, she sat, knees pulled up under her chin, with her eyes closed, because somehow that was the only way she knew to find any kind of relief. 

If she opened her eyes she would feel the burn around the edges that would remind her she'd only gotten 45 minutes of sleep in the 28 hours before the call from Michael woke her and told her she should get to the hospital as quick as she could.

If she opened her eyes she'd see the drab wallpaper and solemn faces that would remind her she was here because she was afraid for someone she cared about, for honestly, lots of someones she cared about, and she was too tired to cry anymore.

If she opened her eyes, she might catch a glimpse of the cross on the wall that would remind her of the words she'd chanted so faithfully under her breath for the hour after they'd got there, and she was so very tired of unanswered prayers.

And if she opened her eyes she'd be aware of the people around her, and that would remind her of why she had been tired long before tonight. Tired of fighting, of avoiding, of pretending for and with. Tired of missing so many things.

Jackie Burkhart felt tired; but there were many miles to go before she'd sleep.

* * *

Michael Kelso felt scared. Bug-eyed, dry-lipped, teeth-chattering scared. Terrified of what was going on down that hallway, and of what **_wasn't_** going on in this room. 

Laurie was special to him. He wasn't a bright man, but he knew what their relationship had looked like on the outside…hell, what their relationship was. It was physical attraction, boredom, and the thrill of doing something he wasn't supposed to be doing. It'd only been that for her too. But he'd grown up with Laurie. For as long as he could remember, Eric had been his best friend, so there she had always been, just off to the side, shaking things up, making things interesting.

And he cared about her in a way that was special because it was linked to just about every good memory he had, and most of the bad ones too. He cared about her in the way that's sacred, with the love saved for life-long friends, family. And while that surprised him as much as he knew it'd surprise everyone else if they knew, it didn't make it any less true.

And that's why it was terrifying to sit in a room with the people he felt that bond with most strongly, barely recognizing who they were. They all still obviously cared about Laurie, but had they lost some of that feeling for each other?

Michael Kelso felt scared, deep down to his core, in a way no teddy bear could erase.

* * *

Steven Hyde felt trapped. In this moment, in this room, in his life. 

He wasn't good at waiting, and he wasn't good at feeling. And that was all he could do at 2:46am, and all sorts of 'caged animal' comparisons echoed in his mind.

He was alternating between pacing the short, narrow space between two unoccupied rows of chairs, and sitting down until his leg began shaking so badly he had to stand up again.

It wasn't very zen, and it was a far cry from the hours he could usually sit, motionless, in his chair in the basement, watching anything and everything, but he couldn't help it…and it at least kept anyone from trying to talk to him.

Not that anyone was really talking at all.

If he remembered correctly, which due to his extensive use of film and beer he very well may not, but if he did, it had been 2 and a half months since all six of them had been in a room together. And to get stuck with eachother now, in these circumstances, well that just sucked.

He wanted to be there. For Kitty and Red; for Eric. And to be honest, for Laurie, too.

But he also felt the impulse to bolt keeping his body on edge; his insides humming with frantic energy.

So what did he do?

Steven Hyde felt trapped, between a rock and a hard place, and he hated to admit it, but that notion was getting all-too familiar.

* * *

Fez felt angry. Thoroughly enraged, and furious, and disgusted. 

Naturally, he was upset that Laurie was in danger.

He could say a lot of bad about Laurie Forman. They all could. And frankly, they all had. But they could also say a lot of good. Him especially. After all, he wouldn't even still be in the country if it weren't for her.

So, she most definitely did not deserve this. And while he knew that bad things happened to good people, and so-so people, and really just all people, that didn't mean he had to like it.

And the fact that _**this**_ is what it had taken to get his best friends in the same room was ridiculous. The months were passing, and he could feel everyone pulling away. And while it did sadden him, it pissed him off more.

He was angry with Hyde for just being Hyde, and not giving a damn about who he hurt in the process.

He was angry at Kelso for leaving; and at Eric for coming back changed.

He was angry at Donna for being selfish; and at Jackie for being withdrawn and weak.

He was angry that this was what he was thinking about when he wanted to be focusing on Laurie; that this was all he ever seemed to think about anymore.

Fez felt angry, and by God, they were all about to know it…

* * *

Author's Note: Okay... To anyone who read this: THANK YOU. To anyone willing to review it: THANK YOU THANK YOU. I'm so very sorry I kinda disappeared from this fandom for a while, but hopefully someone will still give this piece a try and let me know what they think. Thanks! 


	3. Burnin' For You

Righting All Wrongs

Chapter 2: Burnin' For You…

* * *

Four hours into their wait, without concrete news or the steadying presence of Red and Kitty to ease the pressure they all felt, and it was clear something, or someone, was about to burst. It wasn't hot, but each of them noticed a sticky, clammy feeling on the insides of their palms. Collars became too tight, and the air seemed, at once, too thick and too thin. The tick of the clock on the wall had somehow gotten louder, and they were all suddenly aware of the sounds of heavy breathing, though no one could tell if it was their own or someone else's.

So when Fez shot out of his chair in a very dramatic and attention-grabbing way, eyes narrowed and mouth falling open to speak in vehemence, Steven Hyde almost started humming "When the Levee Breaks," as he took a moment to brace himself for what was about to come. After all, they had all feared this, _**The**_ Confrontation, but no one had really seen it coming. Not until it was too late, and suddenly each one of them were being stared down by a foreigner in too tight of pants.

"Okay, this may not be the best time, but what the hell, may I ask, is wrong with you three sons of three bitches?!"

His stance was familiar: hands on hips, stern expression in place. But this was instantly recognizable as very different from any other time they had ever witnessed Fez's anger, and they all suspected they'd be getting off too easy if he merely said, "Good Day," and stormed out this time.

A shamed silence was his answer as Eric looked at the ceiling, Kelso looked at the floor, and Hyde looked at God only knew what behind the veil of his glasses. Yet he didn't let the moment ease past, he kept his dark eyes fixed with accusation on each of them in turn, before huffing in frustration and spinning his body to glare at the girls. "And you two! What is the matter with you?" He looked for a moment to Jackie and the harshness of his face softened slightly, "I'm sorry, my sweet, but this must be said."

He sighed, heavily, but then the fight face was back as his tone lost the shrill haste of early anger and fell low and seethingly deep. "We are stuck here, people. And it's horrible and scary that we have to be here at all, that something so bad is happening. But by God if we are all going to be here, we are not going to spend this time worrying and pouting and stewing in awkard silence. So, let's figure this out, shall we? You are all going to fix this."

Wearily, Donna near-rolled her eyes as she tucked her hair behind her ear, "But Fez-"

"I said 'fix this!'" And the look he gave her was nothing short of withering, as he held his hand up stiffly in front of her face. Begrudgingly, she recoiled and pursed her lips together in resignation. There was no use arguing with him when he was like this.

* * *

Kelso had watched Fez's outburst with a great mix of shame and satisfaction, and a weird tingling in his gut that was what appeared to be realization. He at once knew why he, as sad as he was about the mess they had become, hadn't done anything to stop it. And it came abrupt and sudden, a shocking and spontaneous rush of anger and hurt and courage that was about to culminate in a moment of absolute honesty, and before he could stop himself he was on his feet with a glint of determination in his eyes.

"Fix this? Okay, okay, let's fix this. Let's fix the fact that I feel like I don't know Donna at all anymore. Or really Eric either, but at least he has the excuse of having been in Africa for a freaking long time. Let's fix the fact that I can barely be in the same room with Jackie without feeling so much guilt I think I'm going to be sick. Let's fix the fact that I can hardly look at Hyde without wanting to punch something. You want to fix it, Fez? Fine, great. Show me how." His voice had never really risen, but it had come out stronger and more serious than most of the people in the room had ever heard from him before, and his eyes were locked on Fez's with both pleading and defiance before a small brunette stepped in front of him to steal his gaze.

"Michael?" Jackie's voice was hoarse, from hours of silence and tears, but her surprise was evident all the same.

She asked a lot with just his name, and he took a deep breath before looking down at her. "Jackie, most of the time I was with you I should have been feeling guilty, horribly guilty for both what I was and what I wasn't doing, but I never did. And while I was living in Chicago, every time I came home you looked less and less like the Jackie I knew, and I think then everything I'd ever done to hurt you all sort of hit me at once. Maybe it's sign I'm growing up, I don't know. But it sucks, because I really am sorry, but that's not enough. I'm around you and I remember every lie I told when we were together. I remember every time I couldn't let you go and Hyde took it out on you. I remember it's my fault you were so sad for so long and I am so, so sorry. I hope you know that."

"I know, Michael. You don't have to worry about that anymore. It's over. All of that is over, you-"

"But it's not! It's _**not**_ over. I feel guilty, but I'm also still so angry. At you, for getting over me. At myself, for a lot of things. And mostly, at Hyde."

Everyone's eyes flew in surprise from Kelso to Hyde, silently wondering what the latter was going to do with this bit of news.

"So, you're mostly mad at me, huh? I can't imagine why." Hyde spoke up in a tone that was at once dangerous and mocking. And his jaw was clenched in a way that all five of them had learned to fear in their years together. "Are you still whining because I "stole" your girlfriend? Get over it. I did." It was evident that Hyde thought, in fact that he insisted, that this would be the absolute end of this conversation. But, with his typical reckless regard for his own wellbeing, Kelso refused to back down.

"No, Hyde. It's not that simple. It was so much more than that. I mean, I know she was yours and all but you wanted her to completely cut me out, and you never realized it but you didn't just steal my girl, you stole my best friend, man. And that hurt. I spent 3 years with her, and you expected it to be no big deal for me to just let it all go."

"Your best friend? Are you fucking kidding me? You lied to her, cheated on her, fought with her all the time, but now you want to _**pretend**_ that you two had some deep, meaningful connection and true love and all that crap? If you honestly believe any of that shit, then you are a bigger moron than I thought." Hyde spat, even as his body remained perfectly still, cool and collected, as he leaned against the wall.

"There's a lot of our relationship that you didn't see. And I think I'm a hell of a lot smarter than you, Hyde. At least I know enough to admit that I _**don't**_ know everything."

And somehow enough of Fez's anger dissipated enough for him to gasp in shock, and fear for his foolish friend.

It took a moment for Hyde to move, to speak, to do anything other than internally seethe. And when he did push off the wall, it was only to mutter a deceptively apathetic-sounding, "Fuck this," as he walked away from all of them.

* * *

Things had returned to silence. Kelso, anger still apparent, stood staring at nothing on the wall. Eyes dark. Arms crossed.

Fez was now looking guilty, for things seemed to have only gotten worse. Jackie sat beside him, her look sympathetic…if only half-hearted.

Eric had tried a few times with his last shred of gangly humor to ease the moment by, but to no avail.

Donna just looked irritated, and was getting worse and worse at hiding it. Finally she broke the stillness, with an overly dramatic sigh and a too-loud muttering of, "Well, great job, guys. Really. Wonderful job at making an already heinous situation ten times worse."

At her words, Fez just looked more dejected and shamed, and if Kelso even heard her he made no effort to show it. But Jackie's chin lifted and her eyes flashed in rage.

"Yeah,_** naturally**_, it's all their fault. Shame on them for being honest, for wanting things to be different and better, for not just laying down to worship the Great Steven Hyde. Of course, you'd be on his side in this, Donna. God forbid he ever have to take responsibility for his actions." Jackie's voice was cold, with sarcasm pooling in all the appropriate places.

And Donna's immediate reaction was to fight bitchy with bitchy. "Excuse me? Jackie, what the hell _**is**_ your problem? I know you're still bitter abou-"

"I wouldn't finish that sentence if I were you." A perfectly groomed eyebrow rose with threat and challenge.

"And why not? I'm not afraid of you."

"And I'm not afraid of you."

Donna rolled her eyes. "You know, I was hoping you'd eventually grow out of that whole spoiled, selfish brat bit but, it's looking more and more unlikely." She crossed her arms and fixed her eyes pointedly at her supposed friend, only to find her laughing.

"It's funny you put it like that. Because I was hoping you'd eventually snap back out of the obnoxious, traitorous bitch phase, but I too, have been disappointed."

"What are you even talking about?"

"You. And the fact that you called yourself my best friend, yet when I needed you most, you left me and mocked me and ignored my pain. All to go play with a cheap Eric-replacement, a stripper, and the bastard who broke my heart. I was abandoned, punished for something I didn't do, by the two people in the whole world who I thought would have been standing beside me no matter what. The way you treated me, the way you sided with Hyde, and God, _**especially**_ with Sam, there was no excuse, Donna. I'd have never done that to you, and you know it. I've always been the "selfish" one, right? The shallow one, the inconsiderate one, but _**I**_ would have _**never**_ done that. So what's that say about you, Donna?"

Jackie let her stern stare linger a moment more on Donna, eyes clear with accusation and judgment, before turning her attention away and leaning into Fez's side. Stunned, the former redhead was left reeling, fuming and speechless.

* * *

Whispering her need for fresh air to the only one left who she suspected might care, Donna walked away in the opposite direction Hyde had.

Jackie's eyes were closed again as she pressed herself further into Fez's embrace. She still couldn't sleep, but Fez would let her pretend and she appreciated that. She tried to push the anger out of her body, but was disappointed to find that it lingered and mixed with her exhaustion instead, so she just promised herself she wouldn't cry. And kept reminding herself of that inside her head.

Eric cleared his throat, and looked first to Kelso, who still seemed to be hashing things out internally, and then to Fez. He offered a small, apologetic smile and noticed Fez at least attempt to give a weak one back. He cleared his throat again, but his first few words still came out a little scratchy. "I'm sorry, you know. I mean, things are just…" He sighed and Fez nodded. Neither one needed the situation described to them. "And most the time I feel like it's all my fault."

Fez was quiet a moment, just nodding along, but when it became apparent Eric had nothing more to say, he took a breath and the opportunity. His voice was soft, without a trace of his earlier anger and hardness. But he still remembered his conviction, and so this had to be said. "It's not all your fault, Eric. We might even try to blame you, but it's our own short-comings and hang ups and grudges that did this." He couldn't hide the disgust creeping in, so he paused a moment to swallow it back down. "But you were the glue. And you left us. You left us, so we got lost. You were so far away, and we needed you. And things just fell apart. It isn't your fault, not really. But it kind of feels like it is. It's hard not to feel abandoned."

Eric's eyes fell in line with the back of the chair in front of him, but Fez thought he could still see the tears resurfacing from his place beside him. "I really am sorry, Fez."

"I know, Eric. I just am afraid it's too late."

* * *

Okay, this was a lil' messier than I had intended, I have the story planned out but it was hard to take it from concept to chapter…and my fear is that it reads like crap as a result, but I wanted to start getting some of the issues people were having out in the open. This piece is going to be getting heavy on the angst, in case you couldn't tell.

And please take a moment to review. Thanks so much for reading!


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